


Scary Shorts

by Scary_Shorts



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3314813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scary_Shorts/pseuds/Scary_Shorts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots. Some are suppose to be scary (the first one is) but future chapters are a mystery. Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scary Shorts

# Chapter 1- Black Death

Hiccup suddenly sat up in his bed. His arms were wrapped around his stomach and his face was scrunched up in pain with sweat running down his forehead and cheeks.

His stomach was churning in pain. But it wasn't a normal stomach cramp or illness. No, Hiccup was in a much greater and different type of pain. He let out a quiet scream so not to wake his father when his left arm began to burn as if it were on fire.

He pulled back the sleeve, his eyes widening at the site. Bite marks. Bite marks that cut deep into his flesh. But no blood stained his arm like it should have. The wound on his arm was surrounded—no, creating—his skin to turn pitch black. That dark tone of his skin seemed to be scratching, crawling along his skin.

Hiccup doubled over onto his side, holding his wounded arm against his churning stomach. It must have been that damned dragon. Hiccup had went out looking for that Night Fury he shot down, but after finding it not in his nature to kill, the dragon tackled him against a rock, giving him a quick bite on the forearm.

And now, for being different than the others, he was paying the price. He should have went to see Gothi, but then the whole village would have known about the incident. Another screw up from the town screw up. After what he did in the village during the dragon raid, he didn't feel like bringing more shame to his father.

Now he regretted the decision. Hiccup was on the floor gasping for air. He tried to call out for help, for anything, but to no use. He felt like there was something living inside his being. Something big and mean and it was trying to get out. It thrashed at his inside, trying to break though his skin, to crawl out through his mouth, nose, and eyes.

His skin was bubbling, like something was poking at it from the other side. Then Hiccup was thrown onto his back not of his own will. The beast inside of him had momentarily taken control of his body. Hiccup arched his back, his stomach facing the ceiling of his room. 

The blackness from his bite mark had made its way to his mouth and ears. It slowly began to seep into his ears and mouth, while continuing up to his eyes, now devoid of human life. He wasn't dead yet, however.

Once in his mouth, the sickness attacked his teeth. They dug in his gums and under the tooth. It slowly detached each tooth. Pain was the only thing Hiccup could feel. Pain so strong that, if he had control of his limbs, he would put an end to the misery. Permanently. 

The beast inside of him flipped him over onto his side so he could spit the teeth and blood out.

And then the sickness reached his eyes. The blackness on his skin seemed to poke his eyes experimentally before diving in. Hiccup could only watch in silent horror and pain.

His eyes turned black. His skin was starting to get harder, like armor. And then the blackness, after seeping into is body, targeted his bones. It gripped them, yanking and pulling them into a new shape or new position. Some bones merged together while others split and moved.

Hiccup was on his hands and knees breathing heavily and eyes shut. The length of his body began to grow—to stretch. Little flaps grew on the back of his head and a thick tail grew out behind him. 

Finally, Hiccup found his voice, but when he opened to call for help, a blue ball of plasma shot out, blasting a hole in the side of his wall. 

That definitely woke his father. If he came up here and saw him like this, he wouldn't waste anytime in killing him. Hiccup knew he had to move. Whatever happened to his body, it seemed to have stopped—completed—whatever it was doing.

Hiccup tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a roar. He heard what had to be his father downstairs. He could imagine him barreling through the furniture with his large battle hammer. Without thinking again, Hiccup jumped out the hole right before Stoick busted his door down.

:::

His vision was blood red and wavered. He almost didn't have control of his limbs; his four legs and tail and wings. They almost moved on their own, Hiccup only knowing that they were moving. 

He stumbled along behind houses, his new black and scaly hide hiding him nicely in the dark shadows of the night. He could hear the shouts from his father off in the distance behind him. A few doors opening and closing, the vikings waking up at the shouts from their chief. A loud horn sounded a few minutes later, waking the remainder of the vikings.

Torches were lit by the vikings gathered in the center of the village. The fire making the vikings' shadows dance around in a mocking way. 

Hiccup watched from under a porch of a house. He needed to find a way out of the village and into the woods. He would have a chance of survival there.

The vikings spread out into groups of five. Stoick shouted at all of them to find the blasted beast that killed his son.

That's the conclusion dad came up with already? Hiccup thought. Great that his father had faith in him to survive.

Suddenly, Hiccup heard foot steps and whispers coming up slowly from behind him. He knew they would see him, but that didn't mean they wouldn't find him.

With each step those vikings behind took, each step closer they got, it was like death slowly sneaking up on Hiccup. His spine tingled with fear. He then saw feet appear in front of him. Hiccup silently prayed that they would keep moving, but they stopped. The atmosphere thickened with urgency and fear. It was like a black cloud had slowly fallen around Hiccup as he waited. It was like waiting for judgment as he stared at the vikings' feet. 

Hiccup uncomfortably shifted. It wasn't much, just his tail moving an inch, but his tail quietly hit the back of the house. And when you're waiting, hiding, that thump sounds like a rock slide. Hiccup's heart stopped at the noise, as did the whispers from the vikings.

Time stopped for Hiccup as the vikings listened. Listened for any sign of him. And then, it was as if the world was in slow motion, one of the vikings silently crouched, his hand on the ground. Slowly, his beard appeared to Hiccup. And then a mouth, and then-

Hiccup bolted out from under the porch, sprinting across the plaza. Shouts and arrows followed him. He tried getting to the woods across from the plaza, but was stopped by another angry horde of vikings running around the corner of a house. Hiccup turned to retreat, but his escape was blocked by more of the villagers. Before Hiccup new what happened, the village had made a circle around him. All were mean looking, all had a weapon trained on him.

Stoick made his way into the circle with the cowering dragon-Hiccup. Hiccup whined in his dragon form when he saw his father brandishing his ax and war-hammer. The chief was seething.

“Where's my son, you blasted devil!” Stoick said. Hiccup tried to speak, but only a small and frightful croon came out. Stoick smashed dragon-Hiccup across the jaw with his hammer, a loud crack sounded as Hiccup's lower jaw broke. A bloody dragon tooth landed in the soil.

Dragon-Hiccup cried out in pain and Stoick gave him a kick on the other side of his face. And then he raised his ax. Hiccup's eyes widened. He didn't—couldn't—believe what he saw. An ax—held by his own father, his last family under the Haddock name—began to descend in what seemed to Hiccup to be in slow motion. Hiccup didn't move as the blade of the ax sliced through his dragon hide on his neck. Blood gushed and spurted from the wound.

Hiccup fell to the ground in silent pain. The wound was deep and from it flowed a steady stream of blood. Bone was even visible. Hiccup's weak eyes looked up to see his father standing over him, his bloody ax still in hand. Stoick brought the ax up one more time and brought it down one last time.

The last thing Hiccup heard was his heartbeat. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-thump. Thump-thum-. Thump-.

The black cloud of death descended on Berk for that one horrid night. But it created mixed emotions throughout Berk. Some saw it as a gift; the town screw-up died and Stoick was the first ever person to kill a Night Fury. In which he wore its hide proudly as a cape.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yo! Hope you all enjoyed! If you did, leave a comment/review! Hope to see you on the next chapter!


End file.
